


No One Wants Her

by AlexC



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexC/pseuds/AlexC
Summary: Cold nights are bearable with warm bodies, even if they don't always stay.





	

“Don’t use this,” he calls over his shoulder as he starts pulling his shirt on. She stares past him and out the window, lost in thought as the words flow in her brain.

_The cool autumn air rustled in the leaves, just as his breath rustled in her hair. The ephemeral silver light of the moon shone into the room, no match for the ephemeral pleasure she knew she would receive. She held no hope in heart that this would continue. Deep down, though she wished for this to last as long as possible, she knew she was simply just a replacement._

_No, she was not a party girl. But no, her mother had been wrong. She wasn’t the kind of a girl a person would hope to be with for a long time; she wasn’t “a keeper.” Still, she could not quell the desire for this to be the start of something that could end happily for her._

_She wasn’t that stupid though. She knew what this was… What this meant._

“Did you hear me?” he asks again, waiving his hand in front of her eyes. She blinks in confusion, the blankness of her face quickly converting to one of embarrassment and confusion.

“Sorry, what happened?”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He huffs, adjusting his collar, then his pants, and repeats one more time. “Don’t… Do not use this.”

He says the words slowly, quietly. He enunciates each syllable and makes sure her eyes are on his lips. His soft lips which she loves to kiss. His lips which she loves to touch. His lips, which she loves to feel on her body… Yes, she plays close attention to these lips that in three solid words deny her the right to figure out her thoughts on what she just did.

How can he ask that of her?

He knows she loves to write. He knows she _needs_ to write, that she can’t process properly unless she can analyze things apart from herself. Why is he asking her to do this? To _not_ write?

She doesn’t understand; her mind refuses to process the words. As he back away to see whether she understands or not, he’s left floored at how apathetic she looks.

_‘She sure got over her high fast…’_

“So?” he asks, waiting for confirmation that she understands. She knows this. She knows there’s something he’s trying to make her promise, but she doesn’t want to let it be known that she’s lost. He teases her enough for always being lost anyway. She knows it’ll make him happy to say yes, that that’s what he wants to hear, so she does. She nods her head slowly, mechanically, slowly muttering, “Ok… I can do that.” She aims to please, and right now this is the only way she can think to please him.

He smiles down at her, knowing full well she won’t listen, but pretending she will for his sake because he can’t deal with this right now. Right now he has to go back home, back to the girl _she_ got him interested in. Back to the girl she loves very much. Back to the “better” version of her. He’s got to go back to his girlfriend.

Her eyes start to water as she swallows, quietly mumbling for him to drive home safely. She reaches out for a pillow and pulls it close, pretending it’s his body she’s holding to her side, that it’s his body that’s helping her hold herself together.

He doesn’t turn back to her when he says he’ll see her at work, and he doesn’t turn back when he says he’ll talk to her later. He knows he shouldn’t have done what he’d done, and that she shouldn’t have either. This is a mess, and one that neither can easily get out of.

Easier to pretend it never happened, and pray that no one finds out.

But she won’t pray. Her god has His arms open wide, waiting for her to come to His side, but she can’t. She refuses because she knows that this thing, _this thing_ which she did tonight, it makes Him sick. Yet she regrets nothing, because even if this leads to nothing, at least she can say that for a moment, for a short brief moment, he loved her and she loved him. He _wanted_ her, and she could finally admit that she wanted him.

For a few short hours, she was able to placate her broken heart with his soft kisses and warm embrace. His touch was a rope, his thrusts a glue. His desire for her body made her whole again. For the first time, it seemed, in her life.

Now, as the memories of his desire for her and him showing it play in her head, a few soft gasps escape her. She knows that all too familiar ache. She knows that all too familiar pain.

Heart break.

All over again, she’s left with her heart in shambles. Though, this time, it’s even worse than before. This time, she knows his touch, not just his smile. This time, she knows his body’s warmth, not just the brief scrape of their bodies ghosting past each other. And she knows that he doesn’t want her; she isn’t just assuming now.

An engine rumbles to life, the lights of his car suddenly filling her room despite the closed drapes. The long shadows that grow while he pulls away make her feel smaller and smaller, more and more insignificant.

_‘Just like the way he sees me…’_

Insignificant.

Unimportant.

Interchangeable.

Forgettable.

No one wants her. No one _she_ loves, wants her. She’ll never be good enough. But that’s alright, because she knows it. She has no false expectations. No false sense of security. Yes, it breaks her. Every. Single. Time. But she knows it, and she refuses to let that keep her down.

Because she has writing.

She has a way to make herself ok.

“I’ll just use this…”

No one wants her, but that’s ok.

“No one wants her… but that’s ok.”

_No one wants her, but that’s ok…_


End file.
